Last-Minute Marriage

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Last-Minute Marriage Page 18

by Marisa Carroll


  “Sorry.” He gave the spike one last jerk and it slid free of the wet heavy wood. He pulled it the rest of the way out with the claw end of his hammer. “One, two, three…lift.”

  With a grunt Charlie heaved his end of the section free of the pilings, and together they maneuvered it onto the bank. Without another word they turned back to manhandle the last two support posts out of the soft muddy bottom.

  With a technique that had earned him a berth at the state track-and-field championship in high school, Charlie sent the six-foot cedar posts sailing like javelins toward the ones they’d already removed. “That’s it for another year,” he said, sloshing toward the bank.

  “I’ll stack ’em and tarp ’em later,” Mitch said. Charlie was a great friend, but Mitch just wasn’t in the mood for company today. He hadn’t been in the mood for much of anything but feeling sorry for himself since Tessa’s boyfriend had shown up Halloween night.

  Brian Delaney. Center fielder for the Angels. Someone at the Riverman Lounge had even seen him play in a late-season game.

  Not many people in town suspected he’d made a fool of himself over Tessa Masterson, but that didn’t make him feel any better. He fired the crowbar onto the pile of dock sections. It landed with a metallic clatter that echoed back and forth across the river, splitting the Sunday silence.

  “Jeez, you’re in one hell of a mood this afternoon,” Charlie grumbled. “Want to get it off your chest?”

  “Nope,” Mitch said pointedly. He wasn’t ready to talk about Tessa with anyone. Even Charlie, who’d been there for him through his divorce from Kara.

  Charlie sloshed his way onto the bank and headed for the built-in bench near the steps where he’d left his shoes. “Man. I bet the water’s down to fifty degrees. I think my gonads are atrophied. Why the hell did we leave the dock in so late this year, anyway? It’s not like we did any fishing or anything.”

  “Too many other things on the agenda.” Like falling in love with a woman who was carrying another man’s child.

  “Yeah. It’s been one hell of a summer,” Charlie grumbled, but he was smiling.

  And why shouldn’t he? Mitch thought enviously. He’d reunited with the only woman he’d ever loved. Not many people got a second chance at love. His own sorry situation ought to be ample proof of that.

  Except, just what was his situation? He certainly hadn’t confronted Tessa with it this past week. In fact, he’d done his level best to avoid her. And succeeded pretty well, considering they saw each other every day.

  Mitch looked out over the river. It was a gorgeous day. Breezy and warm for November, but the weather was about to turn cold. Winter was setting in. At least, that was what Caleb had been predicting for the past three or four days.

  “Want me to hang these waders in the boathouse?” Charlie asked. He hooked his thumb in the direction of the lower half of the building. Mitch followed the gesture with his eyes, but studiously avoided raising his gaze above the level of the open doors to Tessa’s windows.

  “I’ll do it. I’ve got to lock her up, anyway.” He’d taken the boats out weeks ago—the runabout they used for waterskiing and the rowboat Caleb and Sam used for fishing on summer evenings.

  Charlie handed over the heavy waders and started up the steps. “It’s probably halftime. I’ll check with Caleb and see how the Colts are doing.”

  “I’m right behind you.” Mitch sloshed over to the shed, hung Charlie’s waders on a peg and shut the heavy wooden doors. The whole building would need staining next summer, he decided, determined not to think about Tessa so close above him. Maybe he’d let Sam and a couple of his buddies do it for extra money. It would be a good project to keep three eleven-year-olds busy for a week.

  They’d have to be careful not to disturb the baby, though.

  He slammed his fist against the door. “Hell. She’ll be long gone by next summer.” Now he was talking to himself. That was enough of that.

  He grabbed his shoes and climbed the steps, still wearing the leaky waders. They were going into the trash. He’d have to sneak them by his granddad, though. Growing up during the Great Depression had made a lasting impression on the old man. He never let Mitch throw anything away if he got to it first. He’d have to make sure he stashed them out of sight somewhere until the next garbage pickup.

  He got to the top of the steps and rounded the boathouse. Tessa’s car was in its usual spot, but the boathouse looked deserted. She was off with Delaney somewhere again. He ground his teeth and kept on walking, trailing water from his waders.

  Charlie was waiting for him by the back door, leaning against the house, soaking up the weak November sun. Once winter set in, they wouldn’t see the sun for days, sometimes weeks. Lake Michigan was a hundred miles away, but it still had a strong effect on the weather. A car pulled into the driveway. Mitch turned to see who it was, despite not wanting to confront Tessa and her lover. But it wasn’t Delaney’s high-end rental. It was Ethan Staver in one of the town’s silver-gray patrol cars.

  Ethan got out of the car and strode toward them. Charlie straightened from his slouch against the side of the house and moved forward to meet the policeman. He held out his hand. “Nice day, Chief,” he said.

  “Sure is. Probably one of the last we’ll have this year.”

  “What’s up, Ethan?” Mitch asked.

  “Just on my way out to Kate McMann’s place to do a little follow-up on the accident.”

  “What accident?”

  “You haven’t heard?”

  “Some kid driving like a bat out of hell, stereo going full blast, nearly ran down Kate’s twins when they chased a kite out onto the road.”

  “My God,” Charlie said.

  “Are the girls all right?” Mitch asked. His heart thudded heavily in his chest. The twins were Kate’s life. If anything happened to either one of them, he didn’t know how she would go on.

  “They’re fine. Can’t say as much for the guy who pulled them out of the way. Banged up his leg pretty good. He’s still out at Kate’s place.”

  Mitch wasn’t sure he liked the sound of that.

  “Who’s the guy?” Charlie asked.

  “Name of Lawrence. Some businessman from Chicago, I guess, out to see a little of the countryside.” The air was growing colder, and Charlie stuck his hands in the pockets of his jeans. Mitch’s left leg still felt like a chunk of ice. Ethan was in his shirtsleeves and didn’t seem to notice the cold at all.

  “I’ll give Kate a call later,” Mitch said. “Make sure she and the girls are okay.”

  “Thought you might want to do that.” The chief turned on his heel and climbed back in the squad car just as Brian Delaney’s rental pulled into the driveway. Ethan gave Delaney the once-over, raised a hand in greeting to Tessa and pulled out onto the street.

  Tessa got out of the car and walked toward them. She moved more slowly these days, more deliberately, as though her burden had shifted. She still wasn’t very big, not in the way some women ballooned in their ninth month. She was just nicely rounded. Nicely pregnant.

  Mitch curled his hands into fists as he remembered the firmness of her belly beneath his fingers. Relived again in his imagination the movement of her child beneath his fingertips. He’d felt a connection to the little one, just as he had with Sam the first time he’d felt him move inside Kara. But Tessa’s baby wasn’t his. Tessa’s baby belonged to the tall golden-haired man following a few steps behind her as she crossed the driveway.

  “Hi, Charlie,” she said with that sunbeams-and-summer days smile that haunted his dreams.

  “Hi, Tessa. Going to introduce me to your…friend there?” Charlie’s hesitation on the word was so slight Mitch thought he was the only one who noticed. But he wasn’t. Tessa’s eyebrows drew together in a quick frown. Her smile faltered for a moment, then returned full force.

  “Of course. Charlie Callahan, this is Brian Delaney.” She didn’t add, the father of my child. She didn’t have to. Everyone in town already
knew.

  “Glad to meet you.” Charlie held out his hand.

  “Same here. Nice little town you got here.” Delaney rocked back on his heels and gave Mitch’s waders and threadbare flannel shirt the once-over. He was wearing a great old leather flight jacket that looked as if it was a true World War II original and had cost a mint. This was the same guy Tessa had described as undependable, the one she wasn’t going to ask for child support, wearing a five-hundred-dollar jacket and driving a luxury rental car that cost him a hundred bucks a day to park in Mitch’s driveway. And then there was his room at the River View Hotel.

  That was one expense Mitch didn’t begrudge the man. He wouldn’t have closed his eyes all week if he’d had to think about Brian Delaney sleeping in Tessa’s bed.

  “Thanks. We like it.”

  Delaney waited expectantly, as if hoping Charlie would say something more. Like, Aren’t you the guy who plays for the Angels? But Charlie kept his mouth shut. And Mitch was glad.

  “Why was Ethan Staver here, Mitch?” Tessa asked quietly. “Is something wrong at the store?” She’d lifted her hand as though to lay it on his forearm, but then let it drop back to her side.

  “Seems some damned kid in a souped-up truck nearly ran Kate McMann’s twins down this morning.”

  “Oh, no.” Tessa turned white and swayed a little on her feet. Delaney was at her side in the blink of an eye, but Mitch got there first.

  “Are you okay?” he asked as she rested her head against his shoulder for just a moment.

  “I’m fine,” she said, pulling herself upright. “A little dizzy. It’s just…the thought…You’re sure Hope and Hannah are okay?”

  “Ethan says they’re fine.”

  “I’ll give Kate a call.” The phone line had been installed Friday. Delaney had offered to pay for it, but Mitch had had the satisfaction of turning his offer down flat. He didn’t take any comfort in Tessa’s wanting a telephone, though. While it could mean she wasn’t going to leave town with the guy, it could also mean Delaney was planning to stick around for the winter, too, for all Mitch knew.

  “Hey, Dad! The Colts just scored.” Sam came bounding out the back door and down the steps to where they were standing.

  Mitch wasn’t fooled for a moment. Sam wasn’t even a Colts fan. His team was the Denver Broncos. But he wanted to meet Brian Delaney.

  Mitch put his hands on Sam’s shoulders and turned him enough for Sam to read his lips. “Brian Delaney, this is my son, Sam. He wanted to meet you.”

  Sam held out his hand. “Hello. I’ve seen you play on TV.” The words came out too loud and in a rush.

  Delaney’s grin hardened, as though he was keeping it in place with an effort. He frowned and said, “Uh? Sure?” It was apparent he hadn’t understood a word Sam said. “Hi, kid.”

  Sam’s face turned red with embarrassment, but he held his ground. “I saw you play on TV,” he repeated slowly and very, very carefully.

  “I had a pretty good September,” Delaney said, his grin still forced but less than it had been a minute before.

  “You were good.” Sam squirmed under Mitch’s hands. “Could I have your autograph?” He must have been practicing with Caleb or Ty because the word came out clear and strong.

  Delaney’s smile turned genuine. “Yeah. Sure. Anytime.” He turned to Tessa. “We’d better get you inside, sweetheart. You look like you could use a rest.”

  “I…of course. Sam, did you take my pumpkin away?”

  “I put it in the compost pile. It was looking pretty gross.”

  “Thank you. I enjoyed it so much.”

  She looked sad, Mitch decided. Or was that only wishful thinking? Maybe she looked sad because she was going to leave Riverbend, and she was trying to think of a way to let Sam down easy.

  It didn’t matter. Either way he’d lost her. And he didn’t know how in hell to get her back.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  THE WEATHER TURNED dreary and seemed as if it intended to stay that way for the rest of the winter. The wind blew, the sky wept, and Brian was like a caged animal as he paced around her tiny apartment above the boathouse. Tessa spent as much time as she could at the hardware store, but it wasn’t any better there, with Mitch doing his best to avoid her.

  Dr. Stevens was beginning to worry about her blood pressure and her insomnia. On her second weekly visit after Brian’s unexpected arrival, Annie asked Tessa point-blank if something was troubling her that she might want to talk about, since her emotional well-being affected her pregnancy as much as her physical well-being. But Tessa said no. She appreciated Annie Stevens’s concern, but she didn’t know how to start talking to a stranger, even a doctor, about the life-altering choices she needed to make. And make soon.

  So she found herself carried along by day-to-day events, avoiding any confrontation with Brian by going along with almost everything he said—except letting him move in with her. But she knew time was running out. Brian’s shoulder was improving. He had therapy sessions with Beth Pennington every other day, and he’d talked Aaron Mazerik into letting him use the weight room at the high school in return for drilling the school baseball team on some of the basics.

  He’d told her laughingly that Aaron Mazerik drove a hell of a bargain, and if he hadn’t agreed, he’d have gone stir-crazy. But he was smiling when he said it, and some of their best conversations in the evenings revolved around his work with the teens. Tessa took his involvement with the kids as a sign that he really had turned over a new leaf and wasn’t only paying lip service to her need to believe he could be a responsible and caring father.

  But he’d been in Riverbend for more than two weeks, and with each good report from Beth he was growing more and more impatient to return to California to meet with the team doctor. Lately he’d begun to pressure Tessa to return with him.

  Then suddenly it was the day of her baby shower, postponed after the near accident with Kate’s little girls because Kate had been so busy with their mysterious rescuer. Thanksgiving was little more than a week away. And still she hadn’t made up her mind what to do about Brian, about Mitch, about anything.

  Tessa turned her attention back to the packages piled at her feet and opened another gift. Sleepers in soft pastel greens and yellows and covered with Winnie the Pooh characters. It was a few minutes after noon. Kate had closed the bookstore for the lunch hour, and they were gathered in the cozy seating area she had created at the front of the store. Beth was running late with a patient, and Lynn Kendall was on a sick call. But Lily Mazerik, Rachel and Ruth, Maggie Leatherman and Linda Christman had joined Tessa and Kate and her girls for fancy little sandwiches and cookies and hot spiced cider.

  “Those are from my sister and me.” Rachel said. “Winnie the Pooh was one of our favorite childhood stories. Was it yours, too, Tessa?”

  “I like the Pooh stories very much. And the sleepers are great. Thank you both.” She’d never had anyone read to her, but it’d be different for her baby. They would discover all those wonderful childhood stories together. And Brian wanted the chance to be a real father, to give their child memories of bedtime stories and walks in the park and visits to the zoo.

  Mitch, too, had promised her all that for her child. And his heart. But blood was thicker than water. Wasn’t that what she’d always been told?

  She laid the sleepers on top of the receiving blankets and soft toys from Linda and Lily, then picked up the next package. It had been wrapped rather haphazardly in Peter Rabbit paper. The yellow bow was lopsided, too. Tessa opened the card. It was signed in big block letters by Hope and Hannah. Hannah danced around in front of Tessa, impatient for their gift to be opened. Hope stayed shyly at Kate’s side, peering out from behind her mother as Tessa dealt with the bow and paper. It was the twins’ regular day off from kindergarten classes at Riverbend Elementary, and they were spending the day with Kate at the store.

  “It’s bath stuff,” Hannah exclaimed, unable to wait a moment longer for the wrapping to come
off. “Because babies have to have a lot of baths. They puke all the time.”

  “Hannah, such language,” Ruth scolded, shaking her head. “Say ‘spit up.’ It sounds better.”

  “It doesn’t smell any better.” Hannah chortled.

  Hope came out from behind the couch where Kate was seated and stood at Tessa’s side. “I picked out the little hooded blanket. It’s to keep the baby’s head warm after her bath. Do you think your baby will be bald? Mom says Hannah and I didn’t have any hair at all.”

  “I don’t know if she’ll have hair or not.”

  Hannah wrinkled her nose. “I’m wishing real hard it will be a girl. There’s too many boys in town, anyway.”

  “We can baby-sit her when she’s bigger—and we’re bigger,” Hope said, smiling. “I’m going to be a very good baby-sitter.”

  “You can’t baby-sit when you’re only five,” Hannah scoffed.

  “I said when I was older.” Hope went back to stand by Kate, her lower lip sticking out in a pout.

  “I’ll be happy to have you baby-sit when you’re old enough,” Tessa said, smiling at Hope, although inside, her heart had cracked open a little more. She wasn’t going to be in Riverbend when Hope and Hannah were old enough to baby-sit.

  She had almost made up her mind to return to California with Brian. She didn’t love Brian anymore. That was the only thing she was certain of. But she had made a child with him. And if they tried hard enough, they could become a family, and give their baby the stability she herself had never had growing up. She would spend the rest of her life trying to make that happen.

  But how could she tell her new friends this as she sat among them, accepting their congratulations and their gifts, given in anticipation that she would become one of them?

  And dear God, how could she tell Mitch?

  “Help yourself to the cookies and sandwiches,” Kate said, making shooing motions toward the counter where the food was laid out. “I have to make a phone call.”

  “Checking up on that Lawrence guy, eh?” Maggie asked, her nose quivering with interest.

 

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